


Nia Strikes Again: No More Blades

by anibrivity



Category: No More Heroes (Video Games), Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Completely Canon Removed, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Gen, Parody, Ranked Assassins will not be tagged, Spinoff, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27346519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anibrivity/pseuds/anibrivity
Summary: Nia attempts to climb the ranks of 'AAA: The Alrest Assassin Association.'AKA: A spoof of the NO MORE HEROES franchise set in the world of Xenoblade Chronicles 2, starring Blade Nia and co-starring Kora.
Kudos: 5





	1. Rank # 11 - Bana Of Greed -

**Author's Note:**

> No More Heroes 3 and the rereleases of No More Heroes 1+2 have gotten me really excited. I've also been wanting to do something centering around Nia/Blade for quite a while. So, thanks in part to a random suggestion from my buddy writer Phendrifts...you get this. Have fun and mind the tags please. I'm not tagging any of the ranked fights. Consider the chapters themselves as the tag. Also BE WARNED THERE IS A MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IN EVERY RANKED ASSASSIN FIGHT. OBVIOUSLY.
> 
> I encourage ANY and ALL Xeno2 fans unfamiliar with no more heroes to brush themselves up on it NOW or else this fic is going to look and feel extremely weird.
> 
> One last thing. NOTHING THAT HAPPENS IN XENOBLADE CHRONICLES 2 HAPPENS HERE. This fic is almost completely canon-removed. It's its own thing

_\- Rank 11, Bana of Greed -_

  
  


There was an Artificial Blade in a maid costume, writhing on the ground and sparking violently. It’s eyes flickered with vigor. And though it was machine. Not at all human. Not at all Blade. Not at all living. It was the same lusty vigor, the same energy, of someone being strangled. Someone begging. Begging for what? Who knew.

_“Urgh. What a right piece’o junk.”_

It didn’t matter to the Assassin much in the slightest. Whether the heap of scraping shit furiously lashing like a child on the cold metal floor was begging for it’s life, _or it’s death._

The result was the same.

_“A-Ppppp- Ologie-s MasterPoN ..Li-LiE-La has fail--”_

Straight through it’s mechanical skull was the Assassin's flat, hard, and red heel. It came swiftly, with a staggering level of mercilessness. A painstaking disregard for all who stood in her way. Living or otherwise.

The head of the android maid shattered, spewing in all directions from the centerpoint of her heel. The voicebox went totally mute. It could writhe and beg no longer. 

And this type of behavior was par for the course of the Assassin. Spilling insides, whether bloody or metal, was an activity so mundane, so second nature, it was like a day job. Much to her surprise, of course. She didn’t expect, or _want_ killing to come so easily for her. Especially on her first ‘gig.’ Her first baby steps into the world of Assassins. 

_“Fuckin’ hate those things. Uh’least the ones with real ‘earts know how to cry. The metal ones just never shut the hell up.”_

  
  
  


_The Turquoise Nopon at the end of the observation room squirmed and jerked to its feet as it tried to sneak away._ **_The begs of this one were clear._ ** _Easy to read. Much easier to catch. Much, much easier to kill. And the Assassin always preferred the simpler way of doing things._

Words need not be exchanged, between either party.  
Only glares.  
The Assassin stared devils into the scrambling creature. Her narrow eyes pierced so deep as to practically unearth the black pit of despair growing in its heart.

The promise of another day for the fluffy life slipped by the second, the longer he felt her eyes locked on to him.  
And yet, closure to the automatic door he made it. Inches by inches.   
And when you’re given an inch, you _absolutely_ take a mile.

The Nopon wondered, _‘why she wait so long for attacking…?? What going on?! Can Muimui truly escape?!’_ and his pace quickened toward the exit, with not a single extra step taken by the one he felt prey to.

And…  
Muimui had made it. He was home free, actually.  
_He could escape. He could see another light of day. He could live._

 _The orange lights of the hallway beyond the sliding factory doors served as his angelic guide to the safety and security he so yearned for. Safety from everything. This life of mass producing machines. This servitude under the superior who cared nothing for him, and paid him little._ **_This_ ** _girl, clutching a bright blue sabre covered in vines. Dripping at the tip with scorching, oily Ether from the inside of her previous victim._

_Safety from it all was just within reach.  
_ _Did she simply not care? Muimui couldn’t tell.  
_ _Scarier than the knowing, was the not knowing._

 _He couldn’t tell,_ **_at all,_ ** _what she could have been thinking.  
_ _Her entire scourge through the Artificial Blade Factory was a concatenation of nothing but slaughter.  
_ _Mindless killing._

_Up until this very room, she had purged everything from the complex. He was certain that he was next. But she still refused to move a muscle. He didn’t see them, but he felt them, her eyes. Slithering all around his pelt as he tried for the last leg of emancipation. Emancipation from the fear etched into his heart._

_The door on the opposite end of the hall cracked, and then flung open.  
_ _There was nothing to worry about anymore. There were days ahead for Muimui.  
_ _Happy days, sad days. Gentle days. Painful days._

**_Painful_ ** _days.  
_ _Painful, like the pain he felt as he was thrust back into it all.  
_ _Sent bouncing through the corridor as if he were a bitball._  
  


_His round body crashed into metal and glass in a sporadic chain of physical reactions. He found himself back. Back inside of the crosshairs of the narrow, predacious eyes he nearly freed himself from. His head slammed into the side wall. His bouncing around ended. He landed at the assassins feet._

_His sight was a blur. A mess of everything known. Both the shapes of the breathing world, and the memories he held dear to him. They all swirled into his vision at once. Each one of cherished sentiments coming to view, only to promptly shatter like glass. What was breaking those things he held so dear was the sound of the person responsible for his reinstatement into all of this hell. The grueling work of mass production. The low pay-grade._ **_That girl._ ** _Each cheerful clap from the end of the room, now far out of Muimui’s reach, was as if shepherding the treasured thoughts and feelings straight from his soul. Telling him no longer to hold on. Telling him no longer to beg._

_The one responsible for his reinstatement to hell spoke, innocently and brightly, with a sass that was nothing like the one clutching firmly the bright blue weapon of murder. The words were nothing directed to him. As far as that person was concerned, he didn’t even exist._

_“Slacking, huh, Nia?~ Fufu, you lazy bum. Don’t you wanna be_ ** _number_** **_one_** _, girl?”_

_But he_ **_did_ ** _exist.  
_ _He_ **_did_ ** _have purpose.  
_ _He_ **_could_ ** _atone for the sins he allowed his superior to drag him into._

_“Yea, wut? And_ **_you_ ** _said this round fuck ‘ere wasn’t the round fuck tha’ I wus lookin’ for, right?”_

 _“Pssh. We gettin’ sympathetic? In the_ **_Assassin_ ** _biz? You’re supposed to be shootin’ for the stars, babe!”_

_“...Tha’ta challenge?”_

_“Could be.”_

  
  


_Muimui clutched to his consciousness with a grip firmer than he ever imagined he could. He wanted to move. He wanted to go back to the promise of days. He wanted the right of his existence back under his thumb, which it clearly wasn’t at the moment._

_He shook himself violently.  
_ _He began to beg again for his bearings.  
_ _To beg again for his life._

A splatter of crimson streaked across Nia’s dress. Muimui’s glasses cracked, and rolled off of his face as his body was lift upward. None of this new, for the Assassin. The challenge of her associate was accepted, and Muimui’s begging was answered. The bright blue scimitar was shortly thereafter the deed slowly dug out of the now lifeless, round body, soaking in blood, with not a second thought spared for the corpse it was met into just seconds ago.

Nia swiped her blade through the air, splaying the blood of the Nopon across the cold floor, even unintentionally painting some of it across the pathetic sack of a mechanical doll whom she faced earlier. She giggled, perhaps a little too quickly. But that _was_ funny.

Just as quickly however, was her attention given back to her associate.

_“So just where’uh hell is the fatass I’m lookin’ fer supposed to be then? I’ve combed over half uh this shit pit.”_

With the rose-gold ponytail fluttering to the beat of her bouncy strut, the associate motioned Nia to her side. Nia adhered to the silent summons, skipping away from the two corpses that were on either side of her feet, the warm blood refusing to dry on them. 

_“Check this out.” The rosey-haired woman pulled up a clipboard with a screen. “Our boy Bana’s been stickin’ around.”_

The feline Assassin’s eyes widened, and then narrowed, zeroing in on the coordinates of her target, which were marked on the screen. The snarky, snake-like hiss of the newly adopted Gormotti killing machine indicated to her partner a freshly renewed resolve. A new drive, all through her body, and sword, now that the subject of the ‘job’ was well within reach. 

_“Cheeky. Fat fuck mus’ think he’s better than me. Can ye believe it, Kora?”_

The rosey-hair tilted her head, smacking her lips to prepare a tongue-and-cheek response. _“Remember, Nia, you’re still Rank_ **_12_ ** _. Don’t start getting sweet-lipped about it now. Bana_ **_is_ ** _better than you...until, of course, you prove his fatass wrong, right?”_

_Nia purred, thinking of the ways she could outdo her upper-rankman. “...Guess I’ll ‘ave to make a mural out of ‘is innards, and steal his slimy rank then, yeh?”_

_“Then let’s get a fuckin’ move on, kitten.”_

* * *

_Confused? Ye should be. But ya don’t have to worry any longer, either. Go’ahead, n’ untwist yer tits, or sack, or whatever else u’ve got. I know you readers haven’t got a right lick of patience to warm yer arses on a chilly day, so I’ll make it nice and quick for ya._

_The name’s Nia._

_Few days ago I found myself at the bar in Argentum._

_Met the most smokin’ babe I think I’d ever seen in my life._

_Bein the prickly type, I didn’t take to nobody en’there at first._

_But when eyes fell on her, I was a changed girl._

_We got to talkin’, too._

_Fast forward, I got right’round to takin’ a job from the babe._

_It involved gettin’ my ‘ands dirty, I won’t lie._

_But I’m a Blade, these things - they happen, y’know?_

_Spill the blood’uh some fat fuck Nopon business guy._

_Not a problem, fer me, a’least._

_But then I learn a little something_ **_else_ ** _._

_This whole thing’s a right game, ye?_ _  
_ _Eleven ranked killers, all’ova Alrest._

_If I got in, I’d be number 12._

_Enticing, yea?_

_The more I kill, the higher I go._

_I could reach the top, if I took care’uv every’un above me._

_Now don’t that just sound like fun?_

_What? Why would I? What purpose?_

_Senseless killing?_

_A reason? Canon? ‘Aegis?’ ‘World Tree?’ ‘Torna?’_

_Well..._

_I’ve none what those are, and quite frankly -- couldn’t give a right fuck, either._

_I jus’ wanna be the best._

_So you can read all about me doing exactly that._

_And bitch about it in the comments later._

* * *

  
  


Nia had made it to the specified location in the Old Factory, from Kora’s clipboard. Kora had stayed behind, leaving Nia with a heartfelt _‘You got this. Go be cute, and fierce~’_ . 

The objective that remained was the objective of Nia’s arrival in the first place: The 11th Ranked Assassin, Chairman Bana.

The only noteworthy things in the large room were the three cylindrical containers full of emerald-colored Ether, and the pool of the very same stuff beneath them. The rest of the room was rather empty. Missing anything of any real memorableness, or importance, for that matter.

_“Grr.”_ The low-rank Assassin howled at near the top of her lungs. _“Will ya come the fuck out already?! I know yer in ‘ere! And there ain’t too many places a fat slob of grade-eleven shit like you can hide. Even in a place like this.”_

Almost as if on cue, her deranged growls were answered. A small aircraft flew in from the opposite end of the room. Really, it was just a cockpit, with a blueish-gold wingspan on either side. 

The arrival prompted Nia’s bright blue, water-vine sword. Though she left it dormant. Her blood wasn’t pumping yet. She rather wanted to wait. She wanted to see what the 11th Rank was made of. She wanted to be attacked first.

_“So…”_ The small craft came to about eye level with the Assassin girl. The deep, yet nasally, spongey voice protruded the microphone. _“See you have eliminated partner of Bana. Muimui most valuable assistant. Yet slain in most of ease by you, it seems. Lila was no good protection.”_

 _“Heh. Funny ya mention it.”_ A hand flew to her hip. _“Ya know, he almos’ lived. But t’uhh...Mm, I think my hand just slipped?”_ She pressed a finger to her lip, relishing in the earlier act of violence. But she wasn’t satisfied with just Muimui. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d ranked up.

 _“Most of unfortunates.”_ The large Nopon gave a disillusioned, grim glare to the blade in front of him, while shaking his head. _“Muimui was...closest thing to friend of all associate in my business field. Young, too. Too young to go like that.”_

The Assassin girl bore a fang, smacking her teeth in disgust. _“Oh, why don’cha take your half-arsed sentiments and shove them where the sun don’ shine? If you really gave a fuck about yer buddy there, you’d have protected him. Right am I, Mister Assassin?”_ She chuckled, piling on admonishments. _“Honestly, I don’t know how ya got to be acknowledged as a ‘Ranked Killer,’ when really ye’re just a lazy sack of shit, forcin’ others to do yer bidding.”_

_“My workers fend for selves. Whole complex full of artificial weapon to use. And Muimui have one of most powerful available. Completely fault of Muimui that Muimui die at hand of lower-ranked Assassin than I.”_ The Nopon snorted behind the mic. 

_“O’Yea?”_ Nia licked her lips, feeling vibrations in her chest. She was purring, _“And what’s_ **_yer_ ** _body count?”_ she crossed her arms, celebrating herself, _“Mine’s yer entire fuckin’ building, chump.”_

 _“Assassin skill not only come from ability to fight by lonesome.”_ The 11th Rank could be heard smacking his teeth in an elderly flavor of dismissal. _“Assassin can be ranked also based on ability of be strategic with henchmen.”_

_“Come off it.”_ The bottom-rank spat. _“Ye’er a tick above me, arsehole.”_ She waved a dismissive hand in front of the space between them. _“And not fer long, either.”_

The fat Nopon began laughing harshly behind the microphone. _“Hah! And just what that supposed to mean?! You think small body such as yourself, with fragile looking blue sword, any chance of defeating the great Chairman Bana: Prodigy of the World Of Business? Is household name in all of Alrest! You in over your head, girl.”_

The feline flicked her sword, with a deliciously dastardly smirk. The thin blue rod protruding from the hilt soon erupted into a sharp, wide, curved scimitar that very nearly bulged out from the vines that kept it reigned in. Her vessels pulsated with a fierce bloodlust. 

She pointed the sabre slowly and straightly at her opponent, with every intention of being his maker. _“Wut I mean is...Ye’re about ta find out the ‘ard way what’s it’s like to fight yer own battles for once, fatarse.”_

 _“Grr!! Enough with your babblery!”_ the small aircraft shot away from Nia’s eye level, reaching near the ceiling, _“If can talk so big, can surely handle Chairman Bana ultimate weapon, which is also so big too!”_

The young Assassin hissed. _“Why don’cha roll yer bubblefuck self out of the clown car and face me for real, pussy?!”_

 _“Tactics most important skill for any Assassin. You come to me. You fight on my term. Not your own. Ironic you would even suggest that Chairman Bana is ‘pussy,’ has girl not seen mirror in ages?”_ The elder Assassin took a deep breath, pressing a series of commands into his cockpit control panel. After assuring he pushed the right buttons, he let his held breath escape. _“_ **_NOPON! GO!_ ** _”_

The floor shook beneath the feline’s feet, almost losing her balance. The pool of Ether liquid in front of the cylinders full of the same stuff began to come apart. Slowly, but surely, the floor opened up beneath Bana’s aircraft. 

From a hangar deep beneath the ground, an Artificial Blade ascended into the combat site. _This_ was the Chairman’s weapon. It was also dressed in a maid costume, and looked strikingly similar to the piece of scrap Nia had done away with not too long ago. In fact, it looked _so_ similar, it could be mistaken for a knockoff. 

_There was_ a difference, however. _A big one._

_“Let’s see how well you do against greatest creation in Artificial Blade market: my pride and joy!! ROSA!”_

_The difference being… “That thing’s fuckin’ huge.”_ The kitten’s look of shock faded almost immediately, though. _“But o’well.”_ She brandished her weapon, taking an offensive stance, _“I’m no stranger to cuttin’ things down to size.”_

The aircraft docked itself into the head of the comically large doll, serving as - at least aesthetically - it’s frilly headdress. 

**_“Chairman Bana shall test your Assassin way!! Here and NOW!_ ** _”_

Rosa thrusts through the air a short spell, before landing once again, right in front of Nia.

The Artificial Blade mech towered above the young Assassin. But this ended up only serving in Nia’s interests. She yearned for this. **_Begged_ ** , even, for some _real_ action. And now she was about to get it. The words of her associate, Kora, fluttered across her mind again in a breeze of thought. She recalled when all of this began. _‘Go Nia! Go Nia! Welcome to the Cloud Sea Of Madness! Are ya ready?’_

The young Assassin certainly felt she was.   
But it was time for her to prove it. To both her elder, and superior.  
Rank#12 - Nia vs Rank #11 - Chairman Bana.

_“...Guess it’s kill’ur be killed, yea?”_ Cold breath escaped her lungs, creating a frost.

  
  


The giant android came down with a hammered-fist. Hard, and fast. Attempting to crush the young Assassin. But this may as well have been a formality to her. It was seen coming a mile away, and she backflipped effortlessly in order to evade it. 

Not keen on remaining still however, Nia began moving quickly, attempting to circle the large mech. Sword trailing behind her, she thought of using the giant doll’s sluggish movement patterns against it. If it couldn’t keep up, it couldn't get close to her with those arms. 

Much to the young Assassins’ surprise, Bana still attempted to swing amateurly at her with Rosa’s fist as she scurried around it’s large body. It whiffed, leaving the huge doll wide open for punishment.

Nia leaped through the air, targeting the android’s shoulder. _“_ **_Gemini Loop!_ **” she spun through the air, flurrying off a rush of slashes and volleying a barrage of water jets. 

Rosa, in response, sustained heavy amounts of damage into its shoulder, violently shaking the pilot Nopon inside. It’s dress was shredded into streams and cloth-bits that burst in all directions as chunks of metal blew off of the shoulder mound. Sparks and jitters could be seen spraying from the wound site. 

Nia landed, and with a sharp advantage due to the fuck-up of her supering Rank.   
Rosa’s mechanical arm went limp from the shoulder, refusing to respond to Bana’s insistence on recalibrating it from the cockpit. 

Not about to let her upper-hand hang, she brandished her weapon once more. It was all or nothing. Kill or be killed. _“_ **_Jaguar Slash!_ ** _”_ This time, the prime target was one of its feet. 

Coiling extreme amounts of blitzing water Ether around her blade, she took a low stance and threw all of her weight forward in tandem with her attack. The overwhelming amounts of sharp water Ether traveling along the schimitar’s edge made through the mechanical walking-piece like a hot knife through butter, splitting the ankle at an angle. The severed piece toppled, while the connecting segment slid clean from its origin. Rosa, by extension, toppled to the floor like a pathetic heap.

Nia continued her roundabout sprint, knowing it wasn’t quite yet time to celebrate. The other arm was still operational. And Bana had every intention of using it. 

A spongy voice blasted in the microphone. **_“All missiles fire! All range weapon a-go!”_ ** Bana began slamming into buttons on his control panel desperately. Sweat fogging his moniker. **_“Bam-Bam Rocket!! Kaboomy Rocket!! Blam-Blam Missile!!”_ **

Nia rounded to the back of the large doll as a host of deadly rockets ejected themselves from out of Rosa’s functional arm, and from under its metal maid dress. 

Too quick to evade, the smaller rockets would need to be slashed at. Which was exactly what the young Assassin did. Taking her bright blue sword, she trailed the air in a horizontal line, creating a line of Ether in front of her that morphed into a rushing wave of airborne water. The small rockets were dissolved inside of it. The larger ones, however, would explode on contact. A risk Nia couldn’t take if they got close to her.

Evasion would need to prevail here. She began to dash at breakneck speed across the area, trying to break the lock-ons each missile had captured her with. 

She broke from one projectile. The missile flew off, smashing into the rock parallel from the precipice outside of the arena within the Old Factory. The explosion caused small vibrations around them. 

She broke from another projectile. It smashed into one of the cylinders full of acidic, green Ether. That wouldn’t be good if it got on her, so she attempted to steer clear of that area whilst still keeping her focus on the enemy. An enemy which seemed to be stuck in cooldown. 

_‘Cooldown…’_ The Assassin thought to herself.  
Her neutral expression, ready to kill or to die, coiled into an evil smirk.  
She had come up with a plan for the third projectile. 

She chaperoned the third, and final projectile, dangerously behind her, but with full intention. She wanted the lock to remain this time as she blitzed across the cold metal floor, careening herself toward the heap of doll-hunk struggling to take any action against her. 

The Assassin whispered to herself. _“Yer gonna luv this’un.”_ As her pace picked up. 

It was the final stretch of the sprint, and Nia’s plan had a fruition well in mind for it.   
She neared, and neared, the hunk of maid-metal. And once she’d gotten close enough.

She broke from the third, and final projectile, in a _magnificent_ leap. Stuck on it’s course, the large rocket smashed straight into Rosa’s large head. Nia threw her body forward in the air with a front flip as the rocket exploded violently, lodged in Rosa’s large, glass eye-socket. 

The cascading blasts shook every inch of the mech, torturing the fat Nopon inside as he was whipped and thrashed onto the controls and into the glass, cracking his skull on the latter. The Nopon was reeling, barely able to gain focus or control over the vehicle and not long after his trip on the pain train ended, did it begin again. The cockpit, in a final explosion, snatched itself apart from what used to be the small aircraft. Shards of metal flew everywhere. The bowl-like vehicle slammed into the ground and bounced. Once, and then a few more times. The cockpit-piece landed on it’s flat side, spinning along the floor before smacking into the wall on the end of the arena. 

The Nopon was jerked into the air, his ascent halted by yet another smack into the hard glass above him. He was in _so much pain_ . _And more pain, also, as he realized what was coming next._

That’s right.  
He was a Ranked Assassin.   
Number 11 on the list.

This girl…  
_This girl…_ had _every_ intention of claiming that Rank for herself.   
The stare of the abyss strutted ever forward, beautifully, in a frame of petite. 

The Nopon couldn’t handle the thought. He yanked the seatbelt around him off and began squirming for his life. He scrambled like an egg, just praying he’d find the latch-release in time before ---

He heard, and felt a tap on the glass.  
A thin, gentle finger.   
You wouldn’t even think it, _at all_ , apart of the maniac he was dealing with currently.

Why did he choose this life?!  
He wanted to get rich!   
He chose to take up the 11th Rank hoping the notoriety would win him more workers, and cash-flow!

He did _not_ take on this existence to _die_ as a consequence of it.  
And yet…  
If he couldn’t escape...that was exactly what was going to happen.

Everything he’d worked for.   
_Aspired to.  
_Would all be ripped away from him. Coldly, and cruelly. 

He had to try something. _Anything_ to get her to put the weapon down. He had-- 

_“Oh’an by the way…”_ The young Assassin wrapped all of her fingers lustfully around the hilt of her blue scimitar. She _purred, her amber eyes filled with nothing but the essence of primal instinct._ _“No. I don’t want yer assets. I don’t want yer money. I don’t want anything from your fatarse…”_

Crimson.  
Shattered glass.  
Broken dreams.

Mutilation.  
Bones.  
Brains oozing from the hollow point.

_“Heh. Hehe… ‘Cept yer life.”_ The bottom Rank assassin held her stance for a moment. Her victory was sweet. It tasted nothing like the copper twinge on her tongue that she experienced due to all of the blood on her face. She let her bright blue sword dissipate into Ether particles, eventually returning to standing as normal.

She didn’t care to wipe the blood off.

And all the former Chairman had to show for his performance was a deep, gushing space where his pudgy neck _used_ to be.

Nia stepped away from the site, looking through the entrance to the arena that she entered from. Sure enough, right on time, was her associate: Kora.

  
  


_“Con-graaaaaa-tulations ~ Go Nia! Go! Go! Go Nia!”_ The thunder Blade clutching the clipboard hopped in the air, whipping her arms near her face in a show of cheer.

_“Well...Wha’happens now?”_

_“Hehe!~”_ Kora giggled vehemently. _“Honey,_ **_everything_ ** _happens now! Come! Get your butt over here.”_

Nia followed her associate’s advice. 

Kora held out the clipboard screen to Nia, and a retro-looking leaderboard was on display. Straight out of some kind of… virtual gaming machine? 

  
  
  


**_\---_ **

**_1 - *****_**

**_2 - *****_**

**_3 -*****_**

**_4 - *****_**

**_5 - *****_**

******_6 - *****_**

**_7 - *****_**

**_8 - *****_**

**_9 - *****_**

**_10 - *****_**

**_11 - Nia_ **

**_12 - SLOT VACANT_ **

**_\---_ **

  
  



	2. Rank # 10 - Sorority -

_\- Rank 10 , Sorority -_

  
  


The newly 11th ranked feline Assassin stepped briskly through the double doors of Jakolo’s Inn, blank-faced, breathing steadily and bobbing her head playfully.

 _‘Entry fee fer this one may as well’uh been highway robbery…’_ Nia’s thoughts stung briefly, as she remembered the 120,000G she was required to pay to certify herself for her Rank 10 match in Mor Ardain. She wasn’t sure how she was getting back home, actually. _‘...Fuck it. Slaughter tonight. Hustle tomorrow.’_

The low light of Jakolo’s Inn somewhat candied the old, red mats spread evenly along the floor, with dirty footprints on them. The receptionist was absent, as well as any Inn staff or residents, for that matter. Kora had informed the Assassin that the place was apparently set up purely for the ranked match ahead of time, so she needn’t worry about _‘harming any innocents.’_

As if that made any difference. 

A dim, multicolored glow escaped the obstructing cloth of Nia’s yellow jumpsuit. The light came from her chest, along with a blue aura at her feet. Her hand twitched at her side, with a dormant sabre soon to respond. She spun the weapon, from it’s hilt, in her hand, re-clutching it at her midsection. 

Clasping the hilt with a somnolent bloodlust, she reached deep inside, again, for the killer instinct she would need to carry out another life or death match with a Ranked Assassin.

In a swipe upwards, her sword was repositioned at level with her forehead. She had found it, from deep inside herself. And her urge to kill was let loosen once more. The scimitar’s curved edge erected, and the young Assassins clothing disappeared, and reappeared as the garb of her Blade Form. The style of her hair changed in accordance, as well. 

Not _even_ a few _steps_ into the lobby, and there was already game awaiting her arrival. She wasn’t alarmed. These were Common Blades. And with that being the case, she felt no reservations about continuing her stoic, raptorial strut through the entrance area. The weaklings come to her. Not the other way around. 

Something was off about these Blades, though. _‘No drivers? ...Were they hired, then?’  
_ She let her thoughts nearly distract her.  
She was feeling the confidence after her previous win. 

But she swiftly got back on track. Or, rather, she was _put_ back on track once she had made it past the reception desk, seemingly with the full intent of ignoring the additional three entities around her, all brandishing Blade weapons of varied types. 

Annoyed at her dismissal, one of the Commons in the lobby broke his stance and simply walked up to her with a rebuking, iron-clad cadence. 

With the full intent to puff his chest up and give the young Assassin a lesson about ‘honor,’ the Common Blade henchman was aptly surprised when _Nia_ was the one who spoke to him first.

_“...Ey. Tell me somethin. Now where’er yer Drivers?”_ The 11th Rank spoke rather softly, as if projecting her mood in accordance with the romance of the dim chandeliers.

  
Surprised at the somewhat unpredictability of her inquiry, but with no interest in entertaining it, the tall Common deflected her dismissively, speaking with rather performative hoarse. It was all too clear what he was compensating for.  
  


_“Where is yours?”_

Nia bobbed her head in delayed response, thinking about the best way to completely shove her way past the very _lengthy_ conversation that question would most surely involve. 

Yes. Complicated. Angsty. And very much in line with your ‘hero has a tragic-backstory’ tropes seen in these murder fantasy dramas.

And...that was it! She realized what the perfect response was.

  
  
_“Ah. Guess ye’ve got me there.”_

Disseverance. It was quick, precise, and _surely_ painless, given the speediness of her watery-crystal sword’s score across the Common’s abdomen. 

The geyser from within the mysteriously upright lower half of the carcass spat blood in all directions, refinishing the appropriately colored carpet beneath the deceased’s feet. 

  
  


Terrified, the remaining duo of Common’s sprang to action. It was them, or _her._ And to the plate first was a female toting a large spear. She attempted to rush at Nia, straight ahead for the neck. A reasonable plan, as there wasn’t much distance between the two of them, and she was _fast_.

“ _...Shit! No!”_ The Common growled, trying once to yank the spear from the wall. When this failed, she had to let it go and hop away from the Assassin. Forced to look for an opportunity to get it back later.

An opportunity that wouldn’t _ever_ get to be afforded to her. 

Nia was _faster_.

A splash of crimson hits the feline’s face, but this didn’t avert her eyes. The 11th Rank stared devils into the adversary, waiting for her irises to go hollow, so that she herself could know when to stop shoving the sword further into her chest.

The Common twitched violently. And then gagged. And then retched. Then, a glob of red from her throat coated the chest of her maker. Then, the Common died. 

But there was still one more, and Nia was surely aware of its presence. The quadruped Blade attempted to pounce at her, tossing it’s chakrams coated in ice crystals first, and then finishing the grand leap with it’s fangs bore. 

With two swift whips of her neck, both chakrams pathetically missed her. And the bite from the soaring Common was of also no consequence. The young Assassin dealt with the attack from above quite easily, choosing to swat the Blade out of the air, by her fist, sending it slamming into the reception desk beside her.

It cried loudly, in sharp pain all through its spine. It tried to squirm to its feet.

And you know how that goes.

_“Die.”_

Before it could even get a chance to lift its paw again, the 11th Rank had already carved her weaponous length through it’s sideways body. The crevice of the slash was deep, but it didn’t quite reach the end. So what the floor was left cradling was a mangled mess of halfly attached body and halfly detached body. Blood oozing along the floor, with innards marinating in it.

 _‘...Wonder how this place is gettin’ cleaned up.’_ A thought that came and went, much like the Assassin, now finished with the lobby and onto the stairs, did.

  
  


The second floor scrap went similarly. But there were larger numbers. Nia was greeted immediately at the landing by three Common Blades bursting through the door of one of the bedrooms, and into the hallway. 

Clearly a bait. Nia knew the signs of impending ambush. So she chose not to engage.

Clutching his katana close, a lean-built Common held a look of incertitude towards the actions of his would-be adversary. Instead of moving forward, she jumped into a corner near the landing, faster than a blink. However, upon remembering the plan of he and his buddies, this look of confusion became a smile.

‘ _That_ _idiot! Of course she’d try and take cover!’_

The katana Blade stepped forward slowly, letting dark Ether coat the air around him. He was good and prepared to let off the ambush, as they had all discussed hours prior.

 _‘Trying it that way, the little brat won’t even notice Sarah in hiding.’_ He thought coldly, inching towards the space. His confidence, and bloodlust shot up like the heat in his blood.

Close enough to capitalize on the Assassin’s _grave_ error, all he need do is wait.

Wait for the key sound.

The key moment.

A bang along the wall. And then two. And then the brief bit of shuffling. Soon, his chance would come. His shot at the big grand prize he was promised for defeating the 11th Rank.

Emerged from the corner were the two figures he’d expected, seemingly locked in a heated struggle. 

Now was his _chance!_ And so, he promptly supercharged darkness into his rigid weapon, taking a heavy, ravenous slash at the space in front of him. That was it. That was plan A.

A successful Plan A, because he felt the length of his extended self tear through the rugged, enduring grit of a ribcage. He brought the whole thing home in an instant. He was the _star,_ splattering the victory trophy of viscous inside all over the start of the floor landing. 

He was the _Successful Plan A._

For _absolutely nobody._

The lower half of a female Common’s body toppled in a slump, splashing up the pool of blood. Dark, rancid smelling Ether spilling out of the hollow point. The top half of the female Common Blade was clutched midair, by the neck. Peeking from behind the severed midsection was the amber eyes he thought he’d rid himself of. Full of instinct, and sass, the young Assassin gave a pointed, lecherous smirk.

_“Wha -- Sara--ARGH!”_ before he could respond, physically _or_ verbally, the extended self of the undefeated Assassin would be pierced straight through his stomach, ejecting blood spastically from either side. 

Slowly, Nia followed it through, arriving near his face as he dropped to his knees. 

_“Ooo ~ Should watch what’cha do with those things. Swing blindly, and some’un might get hurt.”_

_“R-Rrrrgghh…”_ He gagged his final breaths. _“Y-You..._ **_bitch…_ ** _”_

Flinging the sack off of her blade, Nia paid to the Common no more of her attention. The apparent other two were soon followed by a third. Possibly from either another bedroom, or another floor.

Narrowly sidestepping a Shield Hammer, with crater in the floor soon to follow, Nia responded to the brick house of a Common Blade attempting to crush her by slicing off his arm, leaving the Shield Hammer, and the entire hand wielding it, severed from its user. 

This wouldn’t deter his efforts, however. The Shield Hammer Common strafed around his large weapon with his connected hand, hurtling it across the claustrophobic hallway toward the wall Nia was backed into. 

Using the carpet beneath her to perform a short, low-traction slide along the metal flooring, the weapon missed her head. It flew from the window, with a shower of glass behind, and that was that. 

With no means, or time, to defend himself anymore, the large body was subject to nothing less than the quick and untimely dismissal of his organ shell at each shoulder. Though towering over the Assassin, the support of a large vertical aqua jet serving as the follow-through to her swift slash was enough to close in on the height difference, splitting the giant in half. 

Just as the glass of the window showered sky over the outside world, would her deceased attacker’s blood shower her body. 

  
  


The next fire Blade’s Ether Cannon was rendered an utter embarrassment by Nia’s prowess over her own water Ether. A few waves of water, more than enough to jam the firing mechanism, and the piece of artillery became inert. Certain doom was shortly after, by way of a clean rush down the hall, scoring through the vicinity. Both of the remaining Common’s were caught up in the sweep. The walls, doors, and the rug were refinished with the rancid, copper-twinged red paint gushing violently from the pathetic hasbeens. 

Her skin was drenched in the horrid, viscous stuff. Red consumed so much of Nia’s formerly fair skin, that the bits of her body she noticed weren’t covered looked eerily, _and felt_ foreign. She reveled in the carnage, knowing that each body got her closer to the top. But this didn’t come without it’s...diffidence.

Diffidence that would need to be discarded.

There was a Rank above hers, the 11th. It was the 10th Rank, of whom the Assassin had little information other than their title _‘Sorority.’_ They were in here. _Somewhere_. 

_“Yoink ! ~”_

_“The fuck?!”_ The Assassin yelped as she was snatched inside of a bedroom by her golden rim collar, spazzing a claw through the air in an attempt to summon her scimitar.

The feline yanked herself off of her captor in a pounce, breathing sporadically with sword in hand as she darted eyes around the dark inn room. Her heartbeat quickened by the second, and then...it slowed, as a lamp was gently lit near a bed in the back corner.

_“Ugh…”_ Nia sighed, embarrassingly trying to wipe and scratch at dried blood on her face. _“Yer sucha bitch.”_

 _“Takes one to know one!”_ the associate Kora winked, releasing a light spark of static from her eyelid. She stuck her tongue out, _“Murder whore.~ You look like you just got done at an all you can eat buffet for vampires. Now get your butt over here and lay down with me.”_

Kora chose a rather indelicate lounging position to invite the feline to the bed with, patting the mattress and making space. Nia gulped, gliding her eyes across the curves and skin and noticing the smell of perfume on her neck more and more. Reluctantly, she obliged, making sure to let Kora get her nice and comfy.

_“Smell like shit, by the way.”_ The sexy thunder Blade purred. 

_“Then you mus’be a fly.”_ Nia traced along the curves in front of her without making contact.

Kora mimicked the Assassin along her curves, tracing down to her inner thigh before quickly reversing all the way to her lipspace. She reached behind Nia’s back right after, prompting a nervous flinch from the feline. It only got more enticing for the two when the fingers got underneath her stomach from behind, pushing them both closer. 

Nia’s breaths got heavier. One nearly shirked itself into a moan. But that moan was stifled immediately at the weird, immediately dismissive motion. Kora had playfully shoved the kitten away, flaunting what came from beneath her, what she actually was reaching for: the tablet.

_“Time for you to see who’s head has to come off next, yeah? Don’t tell me you’re disappointed.”_ _  
__  
__“I...Yer--”_ perish the thought, she supposed. Her ranked match was still underway. If anything, the whole ordeal was possibly just proof she was letting herself get sloppy. _“Fuck. Whatever. Who’s the arsehead I need to do away with now.”_

* * *

  
  


_‘High’n dry again.’_ The Assassin thought to herself, grumbling. Not for long, though. The hotspring was just beyond the final door.

  
  


_“...Are you sure it’s okay for us to do this?”_ A nude, pale Blade with an eyepatch over her left eye paddled gently over to her tan counterpart. _“We are s-supposed to be fighting somebody soon.”_

 _“It’s all good.”_ Her counterpart with an eyepatch over the opposite eye spoke up. _“Come, Theory, I’ll wash your back.”_

_“OK, I guess.”_

The Blade with a large bulb dressed in her hair that served as a bun invited her close friend into her personal space, gesturing her to expose her backside while she lathered up a towel. 

_“Wh-What if they show up soon? Don’t you think we shouldn’t get caught off guard?”_

The tan Blade began to swim the towel across the skin of her friend. The pale Blade stared at her reflection in the water quietly. _“This place is loaded with Blade’s to keep the lower Rank busy. We’re good. How soon_ **_could_ ** _they get here?”_

 **_“Try, oh’Idunno...right now?”_ **A hard heel hit the tiles on the floor, carrying with them the red-stained, especially frustrated mess of an 11th Rank. 

The pale Blade shrieked, _“A-Ahh!”_ and leapt from the tub, covering her petite body with her skinny arms. _“Praxis! I fucking told you!”_

Juxtaposing her other, the equally as petite tan Blade with bright-blue hair crept from the tub, paying no mind to her indecency. _“It’s all good...She’s a girl, see?”_ Praxis nods toward her other with a smirk, and then turns the smirk toward her would-be adversary, _“Sup. How ya doin? What’s ya name?”_

 _“Fuck you.”_ The 11th Rank barked. _“I’m the ass-slinging slasher.”_ The feline scrunched her face angrily, scanning the quaint, moistly warm space, before flinging a nasty glare at her superiors. _“And what the_ **_fuck_ ** _is this?!”_

_“Whatcha mean, kitten? You got eyes?”_ Praxis prides her body in front of her under-rank, with hand on hip, sighing. _“It’s a women’s bathhouse. Paid in full for, by the Association. Wanna take a dip?”_

The pale Theory yelped from behind her friend, trying to bring some more respect into the atmosphere. _“We promise we’re not trying to make fun of you!”_

Nia growls, smacking her teeth in disgust and feelings of betrayal. _“The ‘Association’ … Those fuckers.”_ She watched her bloody face get angrier through the water. _“That wus my entry fee, wasn’t it.”_

 _“Cheer up!”_ Nia flinched, feeling Praxis pat down on her shoulder. _“Least your final moments will be somewhere cozy.”_ The tan Blade hissed, backing away from her adversary slowly after patronizing her. 

_‘Shit. Was almost dead there.’_ Nia had to get it together, quick. She paid the entry fee. None of the other shit mattered anymore. Including what the Association had used it for, as pissed off as it made her. She would have to take her anger out on those two, and then snatch the Rank from them. 

_‘Wait…’_ Another confusing thought etched her mind as she turned her attention toward her superior. _“What th‘ells goin on? Which one’o yous are the 10th Rank?!”_

_“Heh. Theory?”_

Nodding with humility, the pale one stepped beyond her friend, speaking for the both of them. _“Um...We both are. Praxis and I.”_

Leaning forward, Nia cast wide eyes, holding them for a bit before shrieking herself. _“BULLSHIT!”_ she facepalmed and clutched her locks heavy-handedly, sending a splatter of steamy, blood-mixed sweat flying from her face. _“The both?! What reason?! You’ve got to be fucking kiddin’ me -- I got to kill you_ **_both_ ** _to Rank a_ **_single time?!_ ** _”_

Praxis shrugged. _“Beats me.”_ Soon after, she snapped her fingers. What followed the pop in the air was her bright-blue outfit morphing around her body, along with her Megalance. _“The Association let us register together. I didn’t get it either.”_

 _“I...I really didn’t want to have to fight Praxis…”_ Theory stepped to her friend’s side, a smile on her face. With a hand to her hip, she thrust her arm forward and summoned a Chrome Katana. The icy gust around her also morphed into her signature black outfit. _“So I begged them to file us in as one Assassin. Sorry if this is trouble for you, but I want to be with Praxis forever.”_

 _“Heartwarming. Ye sure will, you bitch.”_ The feline responded to the weapon calls on the opposite end of the room with a weapon call of her own. The aura of water seethed around her feet just as angrily as the pulsating electricity of her hot-and-botheredness seethed in her head.

She chuckled, letting bloodlust consume her once more. _“Heh. Yep. I can promise’ya that much… Your stupid fuckin’ heads’ll roll right on into that hotspring together!!”_

  
  


Rank 11 - Nia.  
Vs  
Rank 10 - Praxis and Theory.

It’s kill, or be killed.

  
  


Theory took a defensive approach, hopping behind the aggressive Praxis as she brandished her Megalance high above her head. Nia watched the two closely, raising her sword in front of her. 

Slamming the lance-point behind her, Praxis sprinted across the spacious bathhouse dragging the weapon at her feet. Theory hadn’t moved, which was odd enough to the feline. But what was even more concerning was what Nia had learned of Praxis as they clashed, sending bath-chairs and buckets flinging all over the place. 

_“Water, huh…”_ The 11th Rank glared her adversary. _“Makes this interesting. I like it.”_ She held her blade firm to the point of the lance, not easing up in the slightest to allow Praxis any opening. 

_“Don’t think you can just jack on my style.”_ Praxis thrusted her weight further into her weapon, trying to push the nimble Nia onto her knees. _“I make shit rain in Alrest. You don’t even come close.”_

 _“Sure ya do.”_ And nimble the young Nia was. _“But rain’s not all there is to water.”_ Taking the scimitar and twisting it along the edge of the Megalance, she caused Praxis to forcibly throw herself forward, stabbing her weapon into the ground. The Assassin in advantage hopped above the tan Blade, kicking her heels into her back and sending her onto her stomach. Praxis, shocked, almost fell face first into the spear of her Megalance.

Reacting quickly, the aggressive Praxis jerked her body along the tile, rolling away from her lance and springing herself back up onto her feet with a spin kick. Nia hopped away from the retaliation, but quickly swung back in an attempt to compromise Praxis getting back into the fray. Praxis, seeing this coming, swiftly marked herself away from the predicted slash and took up her lance again, clashing once more with Nia’s sword. 

_“Dolphin…”_ muttering an Art under her breath, Nia conjured aqua jets beneath her feet, which flung her into the air toward Praxis, breaking their clash. _“Spin!!”_ Nia tried to break the tie by converting the energy into a series of flip-kicks in the air. But this wouldn’t fool Praxis. She took an unorthodox initiative, dropping her lance and leaping to catch Nia in mid-spin. 

The feline was tossed head-first into the pool, only just barely being able to redeem her descent by breaking her fall with a spring jump off of her hand. She was standing in the middle of the hot tub now, between the two 10th Ranks. With equal distance, choosing who to engage with was difficult. But she had to decide, and _soon._

Coming from Nia’s left was Theory, who had finished what she was focused on. 

**_“Winters wake…”_** The decision for Nia would be made by Theory, as the hum of an Art from across the room sent with her voice, and arm-thrust, a cascade of ice shards careening toward the Assassin. It was too many to slash away at once, and so the feline had to think of something else quickly. 

Ears springing upward to mark Nia’s look of surprise, she put a last second plan into motion. _“_ **_Deadly twister!_ ** _”_

A large amount of water from the hot tub coiled around Nia, creating a force field that warded off the soaring, icy knives. But this wasn’t the end of the onslaught. The knives carried with them sheets of ice that coated over the tiles, walls, objects, and even the hot tub itself. 

Nia’s Art itself was even consumed by the icy drag of wind. Her watery forcefield soon became a dome-prison before she could dissipate it. 

_“Ah!”_ Praxis laughed at the top of her lungs at the embarrassing sight. _“Theory, you snowglobed that fucker! Shit!”_

 _“Hurry, Praxis. We have to end this!”_ Theory held her katana near her hip, shutting her eyes whilst focusing icy power into her hands. From behind her closed lids she scanned for the most vital weak points of her opponent. 

Praxis took up her spear, straightening her stance into a lunge position. _“Our win.”_

The two launched themselves toward the center of the pool at the exact same time. Theory’s frost-eaten hand clawed her Chrome Katana’s steel from its sheath, with perfection all throughout her aim. Praxis’ aim was true as well. She flew across the room faster than an eye's blink.

In a successive photo-finish, a series of precise slashes all happened in the same instant. Ether waves were slung and sent bouncing off of every end of the spacious room.

The two advantaged blades met with the dome, carving through it. They were each on the opposite end of Nia’s ice prison, trailing their weapons proudly behind themselves.

_“Heh.”_ Praxis’ lip twitched into a wide, cheeky smile. _“You know…”_

_“I know…”_ Theory’s icy voice latched onto the mist in the room. _“You don’t even need to say it.”_

_“Good.”_ Reassured, Praxis allowed her stance to loosen, letting blood heave up and out of her throat in a disgusting blob. _“It’s not so bad, then.”_

_“Yea.”_ Theory was soon to follow, feeling the flesh of her midriff come undone. _“Because it’s with you.”_

The dome of ice exploded into a shower of snow, freeing the 11th Rank from it’s clutches. And by the tiniest drop of blood at the very end of her scimitar, the _almost_ clean cut had closed the curtain on the ranked match. 

Praxis and Theorys’ top halves split from their bottoms. Their insides were frozen to the bone, and so they didn’t gush up blood. 

Once the half-corpses hit the ground, the heads of the both of them jaggedly blew off from the necks, sliding across the icy floor of the former hot tub and slamming into the back wall. 

Nia snorted as an all too familiar cheer echoed through the quiet death chamber.

_“Con ~ gratula ~ tioooooonns!!”_ Kora waved herself in with a pep in her step. _“Go Nia! Go Nia!_ **_You,_ ** _girl, are now--”_

 _“Shut the fuck up.”_ The now 10th Ranked Assassin nonchalantly hopped away from the sheet of ice. _“I know already. Call me when the next match is decided.”_ And with that, she uncaringly saw herself out, leaving Kora by herself.

_“Huh…”_ The sexy thunder Blade giggled herself out of the bewilderment. _“Guess there are sore losers_ **_and_ ** _sore winners.”_

**_\---_ **

**_1 - *****_ **

**_2 - *****_ **

**_3 -*****_ **

**_4 - *****_ **

**_5 - *****_ **

**_6 - *****_ **

**_7 - *****_ **

**_8 - *****_ **

**_9 - *****_ **

**_10 - Nia_ **

**_11 - SLOT VACANT_ **

**_12 - SLOT VACANT_ **

**_\---_ **


	3. Odd Jobs

_ “Nother round’uh pickin up fuckin’ trash. Hate how the invoices keep gettin’ more expensive.” _

Nia angrily stabbed her dormant scimitar rod through a metal can.  _ “But whatever. This ‘uns in the bag.”  _ Stuffing the litter into a sack, the off-duty Assassin whistled into the distant field.  _ “Ey, Dromarch. Get’chur lazy arse over ‘ere!” _

The sound of large, stomping paws was soon to follow.  _ “C-Coming, My Lady.” _

The small feline Blade patientlessly and hurriedly harnessed the fourth, and final bag of collected litter onto the larger feline Blade.

_ “M-My Lady…”  _ Dromarch softly tipped Nia off to his distress at the weight on his sides,  _ “do you not remember what transpired before?”  _

_ “That wus yer fuckin’ fault, not mine.”  _ She tightened the last belt.  _ “The faster we go, the less chance we ‘ave of losing our balance.”  _

_ “Unfortunately,” the large cat hung his head, “evidence prior would support that your assertion is incorrect.”  _

_ “Bullshit.”  _ Nia patted down the saddle, hopping on to it.  _ “You tripped cus’ ye couldn’t fuckin’ hoof it long enough.” _ Piling admonishments on further, Nia dotted the trail back into the city.  _ “Look. Our path is shorter this time. So if you mess up again, I won’t be sure  _ **_who's_ ** _ more’uva pussy between the two of us.”  _

  
  


Nia was handed 30,000G by the quest-giver after reporting the trash to the disposal agency. The next ranked match required an invoice of 170,000G, and she had 150,000G. The threshold was close enough to taste. If she kept going, non-stop accepting quests, she’d be finished before nightfall. The Association could set up for the Ranked Match, and have it ready by the morning.

Returning to Apo’s Job Stand in Torigoth, Nia flung a hard, and loud kick at the frontside of the table, jolting the slumbering broker awake.  _ “Get the hell up, little shit. I need work.”  _

The grey Nopon was shocked into consciousness.  _ “A-Ahh! Much sorries! Did not-- Oh...it just Niapon.” _

_ “And I told you to stop callin’ me that. I’m not your ‘buddy Pon,’ I’m a Gormotti. And I just need money.”  _

Apo shook the rest of his sleep away, barely listening to the feline,  _ “Never mind that. Say you need more work, yes?” he drew from under the stand a filing book, “Good timing for you. New jobs come today.”  _

The off-duty Assassin looked through the listings with narrow eyes.  _ “Better not be anymore shitty trash collection jobs on ‘ere.”  _

In a short spell, she found a new quest to undertake, the offer of which being a whopping 25,000G. Not only paying the invoice, but allowing the invoice receipt not to sponge her wallet a second time.

The feline took the stamp next to the job book and brought it down on top of the slot of her chosen gig. But before she could head to the job site, she was stopped audibly by a very concerned grey Nopon. 

_ “Sure friend should be spending all money she make at once? Why have Niapon gone broke many much faster recently?”  _

_ “It’s none’o yers.”  _ She declined to look at him, walking off with a sour pomp.  _ “My cash, my fuckin’ business. And I  _ **_like_ ** _ you, so don’t ask me again. Otherwise...you know how they say to be careful what you wish for.” _

It was all out of the question to Nia. She’d be the best, no matter what. And to be the best, she needed the money from the agonizing gig work.  _ The latest of which being… _

  
  


_ “Will you bitches  _ **_MOVE already?!_ ** _ ”  _ Nia shouted at the group of docile Armu as another threatening, in theory, pounce from Dromarch failed to startle them toward the stable. Or at all, for that matter.  _ “It’s right there!”  _ She cried angrily again.

Dromarch was wrestled in the saddle by his petite partner to gallop once more, this time with fangs bore. This would prove yet another useless measure by the duo. A failed measure that would send the cheek temperature of the off-duty Assassin well into red, sensing the embarrassment, as she knew her employer wasn’t far from the farm, probably watching.

_ “Dromarch…”  _ the calmness in her hiss sent chills down the large cat’s spine,  _ “you, maybe, wanna try looking a little  _ **_scarier?_ ** _ ”  _

_ “I-I’ll--”  _ he responded in nerves, head down, before quickly summoning conviction and pride,  _ “My Lady! I will try!”  _

The large cat summoned a primitive instinct. Pushing up onto his hind legs, he drew full breath, releasing said breath upon the pound of his front paws into the grass with a massive roar. The energy of which was transferred into yet another gallop toward the stubborn Armu, the large cat ripping his teeth across the air and spewing saliva. 

_ And . . . The hard-shelled Armu refused to take seriously the attempt at intimidation. _

**_This_ ** threw the much  _ smaller _ cat into a much  _ larger, purer  _ fit of anger. She threw herself off of the saddle with a hard growl.  _ “Fuck! I’m through with this horseshit.”  _

At the moment of impact with the ground, she flung into a sprint toward the small group of Armu. And in a grand leap, she allowed the multicolored radiance of her Core Crystal to burst through her jumpsuit, tearing her outfit into shreds of Ether particles and replacing it with the garb of her Blade Form. 

Raising her arms high above her head, she summoned her crystal, water-vined sword.

Dromarch, the Armu, and the Employer were all equally bewildered about the volatile Nia’s intentions.

Soon enough, the feline would come down hard with her sword to the dirt, just  _ razors _ away from the group of humble animals. Following the empty slash, the scimitar spewed from it a shockwave. The shockwave, which was...at least relatively painless, chased the small Armu pack down the path and back where they belonged, the stables.

_ “Job well done.”  _ Nia congratulated herself, wiping beads of sweat away from her forehead.  _ “See that, Dromarch? That’s how you get those fucking things to move.”  _

Reluctantly, the Armu job poster handed the small kitten her reward for completing the gig. However, the full payout was withheld. The full contract in the notice posting read,  _ specifically _ , that ‘no use of weaponry, or other such harmful instruments with reckless abandon are permitted.’ 

Normally, the entire agreement would be sterilized upon the violation of just that single rule. But because the Armu were  _ particularly _ stubborn today...the employer decided to overlook it. They weren’t hurt, but they were certainly spooked by the shockwave. At least a few hours would have to be dedicated to calming them down.

  
  


Nia was handed 20,000G.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Rank # 9 - Dominatrix -

_ \- Rank 9, Dominatrix - _

  
  
  


_ “Fuck--”  _ the toppled Common Blade in the way recieved a mighty facefull of red heel, _ “ _ **_out of my way!_ ** _ ” _

The long, golden horn on the end of Nia’s boot was crammed through the back of the weakling’s throat, allowing the 10th Rank to lift the reeling Blade by the skull and fling them off of the end of the pike, careening into a large, wooden shipping container. The container was smashed on impact, sending a waterfall of heavy goods and salvaging supplies piling on top of the downed opponent. 

There was no time to celebrate crushing flimsy fodder. She even had to avoid groups of enemies by taking to the shipping containers and vaulting off of the cargo cranes. The 10th Ranked Nia was hot on the trail of her target, laser focused on catching the 9th Rank before she could escape Goldmouth and make the chase even tougher for her. 

Nia zipped past unavoidable rows of foes with powerful lunging slashes, stopping at nothing to continue her race across the return flight deck to reach the would-be adversary with long, black locs. The upper-rankman herself neared closer to the warship she was aiming for by the step, engines and thrusters purring as it float by the edge of the docks. 

The Assassin caught up briefly, but the elusive woman she was in pursuit of wouldn’t allow the gap thinning to last very long. Sharp gusts of water Ether waves were deployed in an attempt to claim more of the difference in distance, which the 9th Rank avoided by dodging behind layabout obstacles and jumping to dashing heights, sliding down and between the wires hanging from docked vessels. The aggressive waves of water followed the upper-rank’s every mark as the feline fired them one after another, trying to clip her fleeing opponent’s wings. 

Reaching the landing before the docks, the 9th Rank’s legs effortlessly sped her along to the object of her sights: the large, black warship. The Assassin wouldn’t settle for a clean loss, and so she took to another crane etched in the platform, running it’s length and vaulting off of the tip. 

Right overtop of her foe now, Nia produced a heavy rain of water Ether blasts scattering all over the port, creating a sheet of sharp jets above the hunted. In response, the cold woman with black hair transformed her sprint into a  _ dart _ , which she then transferred into a slide, narrowly outspeeding the arrows.

The young Assassin landed, appalled by the display of sheer swiftness. Though, no less, she began running again the nanosecond she hit the ground. The 9th Rank was nearly at the docks now, and the 10th Rank couldn’t lose her to that warship. Having to hijack a ship of her own just to pin down her precious, sought-after Rank was not a headache this Assassin wanted to deal with. 

So she kept racing evermore to the docks, even using aqua jets at her feet to artificially lengthen her sprint.

The woman with black hair, in the midst of her dash, jumped and spun around to face the lower-rank, who so sorely wanted the game of cat-and-mouse to be played fairly. Springing into another high leap, she primed her special Ether gun, which was clustered with barrels and fashioned into a gatling shape. She let off a short saturation of Ether bullets, slanging the gun in a single arm. These shots were not aimed at the feline, but what she was about to find herself underneath. 

The cargo crane wire snapped at the hook from the shower of bullets, unleashing onto the young Assassin a cube of shipping containers just  _ hairs _ away from pressing her into a pulp. 

She couldn’t afford to lose her footing and risk her would-be adversary getting away. So to deal with the threat of becoming a flat-cat-bread, plummeting just metres out of her direction, Nia took up her sword, slammed her heel hard into the ground, and converted her weight into a bolting lunge forward. She flew through the air, no doubt on a collision course with the massive boxes. And this was intentional. Nia’s response was a series of wild, energetic flails of slashes. 

She sought to carve the containers into smithereens. And that’s exactly what she did. The express of her swordsmanship, and the raw, unmatched power of her ferocious water Ether was enough for her to burst through the cavalry of cargo unscathed, all in a matter of seconds. 

Her troubles wouldn’t end there, however. Through with running apparently, the 9th Rank planted her feet right by the edge of the docks, smiling venomously and brandishing her gun. The platform was open. There were no obstructions and no cargo standing in the way of either fighter. This, however, would serve to no advantage for Nia, and to every advantage for her enemy.

When no obstacles exist, you create them. 

Nia tried to burst forward again, and seize her upper-rankman, but the 9th Rank met her in the middle without taking so much as a step. The feline had to urgently barrel out of the way of saturated fire from the Decimation Cannon. The volley of bullets was relentless, and the marksmanship of the fighter using the weapon was nothing if not to sweat over. 

The upper-rank used the rapid shots from her gatling to pencil Nia’s path toward her position, as if making her play with a deadly laser pointer like the kitten she was. 

She sprayed until her clip was completely empty. And once the ammo was exhausted, she tossed the useless weapon into the Cloud Sea below and skipped dotingly toward the hull of her black ship. Nia was losing her. A fact of which she became horrifyingly aware of as the 9th Rank’s hand coiled tightly around one of the ladder rungs connected to the body. 

The black warship began to ascend and pull away from the docks. This meant it was do or die. _Nia_ _had to pick up the pace._

In an effort to kill the laws of physics themselves, as well as her superior, the feline urged the slender legs attached to cut along the remainder of the platform and board  _ so _ extremely fast that her own body felt like pure air. The gold on the soles of her boots would have surely burned straight off from such a magnificent sprint, were it not for the fact that her feet were coated in aquatic jet seals, artificially providing her the hefty gain in track. 

The 9th Rank, halfway up the ladder, used the rung above her as leverage to lift her body and perform the physics-defying stunt of clearing the rest of the climb with a flip onto the quarterdeck. The warship was nearly off of the docks, inching off of the tip of the board and outset for the vast expanse of the Cloud Sea.

The 10th Rank had gained on the moving mass, but she still had over half the board to clear, while the vessel itself was nearly out. To close this gap, tactics called for a desperate, no, a frankly  _ hysterical _ act of impulse. One which Nia had no problem employing.

You try your luck every time you take on the legacy of the Alrest Assassin Rankings. You wrestle with death and bloodshed. You tread on the Architect. You spit in the face of moral. Possibly even logic, too.

So what was different now. 

Nia propelled her energetic sprint at the  _ very _ tip of the port board into a bound so large it could be mistaken that she’d given herself  _ wings. _ She surged through the sky, trusting in the open air to carry her to the hull, her unfinished business awaiting her. The ballot was cast. She placed her trust in her athleticism, knowing full well that if she was off even a smidge,if she  _ missed _ , it meant a face full of the clouds beneath her. It meant all of this was over. 

_ And she nearly did, too. _

_ But Nia…  _ **_Nia_ ** _ was far too stubborn. Far too hungry for gore. Victory. Far too enticed at the idea of being the all-encompassing, unparalleled winner of this twisted madness. This self-indulged insanity.  _

She jammed her crystalline sword into the hull’s metal frame, carving her rapid descent as the jagged blade refused to find grip. Next into the wall came her heels, skidding just as violently. She refused to fall. She refused to lose. She refused to accept anything other than the 9th Rank’s head.

Her turbulent scrape down the hull slowed.

And slowed.

And then stopped.

But she knew she couldn’t hold forever. Bits of metal were starting to snap and spew. Too much, and she’d fall again. She had to capitalize. And so, given her position, and the supposed lack of any available struction to grab on to next, she put her all into another stunt of her own. Flinging herself from the hilt of her stuck-in blade, she leapt onto the metallic hull and sprung her feet along some more. It only took her three steps to gain enough momentum to shoot herself into the air once again, scaling the side of the vessel and successfully achieving the quarterdeck.

She hit the hardwood floor of the ship’s deck with a cataracting collision from the somersault, her body nearly collapsing in on itself. After dispersing some quick, but heavy breaths, she craned her head upwards, trying to scout for her opponent. 

As  _ soon  _ as her eyes focused, was she  _ forced _ into evasion again. Right overtop her head was just  _ barely _ the edge of a large, sawtoothed, cyan scimitar, curved to the tip and bejeweled within the fuller. Much more hideous in shape compared to her own weapon. 

Having the opening attack avoided via roll, the 9th Rank tried following through with a few more. Nia’s response was to uproot herself immediately, converting into a series of lightning quick cartwheels. After securing enough distance, the feline gripped the guardrail beside the steps and vaulted off onto the main deck, summoning her own scimitar to her hand and fixing into battle stance at last. 

The upperankman wouldn’t share the same enthusiasm in pursuit. She opted for the stairs, ostentatiously running her fingers through her long black hair, going on to let it flow in the crisp wind, in a tune tandem to her white coat. Her poisonous, domineering smile said more than words ever could. And when her platform boots hit the landing on level with her lower-rankmen, she forewent any meaningless attempt to banter with her, choosing instead to raise her sword, pointing dead center between the feline’s eyes. She was that precise, even from a distance.

  
  


_ “Hmph.”  _ She let a cunning giggle escape, allowing her lecherous smirk to show some teeth.

Silence was the tune to this dance of death. A trait that Nia had no issue taking to.

_ “Heh.”  _ And so the feline brandished her weapon along with her superior, readying for the match of madness.

  
  


The stagnation in the air collapsed. The wind drew breath again. The silent Assassins to follow in a split of an instant. The sound of shoes on either end cracking the beat of blitzing along the floor. Sparks flying as they carve into proximity. Blow for blow, the strikes were passed back and forth, becoming more electrifying as each woman’s own brand of cold sharp metal was tossed. 

Nia dipped narrowly below a cleave for her neck, replying immediately with her own try for the legs of the woman in white, covered to the thigh in thick stocking. The 9th Rank predicted the response, skipping above the sword and strafing to the kitten’s side. Nia would not relent, giving pursuit after whiffing by pivoting on her hand, extending her leg, and thrashing it to try and trip her. Number 9 parried with her own leg, kicking away Nia’s kick. 

As solid as the earth, The 9th Rank tore for her adversary on the floor. It was marked for death. All of Number 9’s strikes were like this. Solid, and wanton. A glance was all it took to see, and react. Number 10 hopped away from the slash on her palms and toes, nearly losing balance, but recovering fast enough to bounce from off of her toes and onto her hands. From her hands, she popped up at an angle. A short, airborne burst, with both booths extended straight, pinpointing her superior's face. 

It missed cleanly.

But Number 10 wasn’t aiming for  _ her. _

She needed to turn the tables. 

The 9th Rank sidestepped the admittedly deceptive, but no less avoidable retaliation. The 10th Rank, putting plan to practice, twisted her body in the air to correct her positioning, shot for the guardrail in front of her. Her boots collided with the steel bar inbetween the heels and soles, and she pressed all of her weight inward to create enough kinetic force to dart herself right back off in a brisking lunge. 

Not expecting perfidy from the childishly aggressive lower, the upper-rank had to expressly contest the vulture-esque diving slash with a defensive slash of her own. And blocking out of flow like that, on top of the surge of water Ether added to the strike’s arc, bolstering its intensity, the 9th Rank’s solid stance was _ broken.  _ To keep herself upright, she had to lean back onto her platform shoes and scramble for a fragmented balance. 

Nia spared no hesitation now that she was in the driver’s seat. She blew ahead with a surging flurry of slashes, going for the waists, shoulders, stomach, neck, arms -- really  _ anything _ that even  _ remotely  _ looked open. She could tell Number 9 was finding her grips again through the assault.

_ Couldn’t have that _ . 

Their swords clashed frantically, drawing violent spits of spark. And in a breath of trickery, the feline took her frenzy to the air again, front flipping above the superior’s head and going all in for a somersaulting slash. Number 9, caught slipping a second time, had to jerk her body almost spastically to meet in tandem with the overhead attack. The sharp pulse of water ascending from the strike’s arc was enough to send her skidding backward and kicking up splinters in the wood, clutching her wide blade ahead of her like a shield.    
  


After twisting airborne once more in her foe’s direction, the young Assassin landed and blasted ahead on her feet. But  _ this _ was an act of greed. The earlier opportunity was spent. 

The increased distance after Number 9 was sent sliding worked to the detriment of her attacker, because she herself had more time to see what was coming. She swapped her wielding hand and style, clashing with the feline darting from afar with a backhanded counterstrike.

Just when it seemed as though Number 10 could overpower the black-haired woman wrestling against her sword with one hand, would the task for her become much more strenuous. Number 9’s arm and weapon were coated in a golden light. The sensation to the feline in defense, after this aura was activated, was one of  _ everything _ becoming  _ heavier. _

Increasing the weight of the body to enhance destructive force was a feat only Blades in command of the element of Earth were capable. It made perfect sense, now, why this woman’s strikes were harder, slower, and very  _ very _ deliberate. The cold girl in front of her wasn’t playing for gashes, she was playing for limbs. And Number 10 couldn’t afford to be hit by even a  _ single  _ powered up strike. 

Number 9 trawled her massive earth-infused scimitar across the edge of her smaller one’s counterpart, bursting with aquatic verve. The taller woman trounced in the arm-twisting exchange, shoving her weapon down the other sword to then drag it upwards with gusto. The feline’s stance was broken, as well as her guard, making her completely vulnerable, unable to shoulder all the oppressive weight. 

_ Was it stupidity? _

_ Mercy? _

_ Sentiment? _

_ That it didn’t all end right there? _

Number 10 lurched in a scathing body spasm, retching blood from her throat after smashing into the iron palisade overlooking the Cloud Sea. Clutching her stomach, Nia planted her foot firmly, trying to struggle to uprightness using the wall as leverage to help her rise. Number 9 licked at the sight, narrowing her eyes and caressing the jewels in the fuller of her sword. The smirk reappeared. Nay, a smile, still feeling the delicious  _ sting  _ in her legs from the satisfying punt.

_ “A-Ah --”  _ the feline gasped, pulling herself back to level. The answers to her questions about the opponent’s tactics, and sanity, were displayed all over her face,  _ “Ye enjoy this sorta thing, don’cha?”  _

No response. Other than Number 9 taking up her stance again. Number 10 expected as much, growling and closing in once more to  _ prove _ that giving up the killing blow was the last mistake to make against her.

Nia and this mysterious woman’s bout of sweat and cold steel never lost its heat, nor excitement, no matter how long it dragged. The dance of death of maddening. Endless. It took forever, and somehow, no time at all.

The black ship tore through the stretch of the Cloud Sea, whilst the two combatants beholden to their demented occupation tried with every fibre of themselves to tear into one another. 

Sharp bursts of water were dashed away with head on strikes. Chaotic warps in the wooden platform were sent snaking along the deck, drawing up jagged stakes and compromising the feline’s tippy toed movement patterns. 

They pushed one another up the stairs, tossing their swords like animals.

They pushed one another back down the stairs, one carving for the other’s beating heart.

Like demons.

They clashed near the palisade, with Nia in advantage, trying to shove her superior off into the abyss.

They clashed again at the forecastle, this time with Number 9 thrashing both her legs and weapon around, revelling in the elation felt from toying with life.

Impact the fury of which put the sound of the roaring winds to shame reverberated the entire vessel. The two devilish Assassins blitzing erratically across the arena of darkness surrounded by the cage of sky. Impact the pressure of which tore through the fabric of rationality. Of any mortal concern. 

_ Impact, the length of which disregarded all passage of time, and change of scenery. _

**_Impact_ ** _ , the noxious severity of which could be seen lit even when under the shade of the World Tree itself.  _

Impact. Like the …

**_“H-Huh?! Where the hell are--”_ **

_ …  _ call of the guardian. The herald of an Architect’s divine sword, meant to keep the legacy of the world inside of its leaves. And  _ intruders _ outside.

A shadow cast along the side of the warship that faced the larger-than-existence World Tree. The ascending, serpentine presence consumed all of the immediate light in the area. It coiled in the sky, enough until it’s aim was secure. Enough until the women obsessed with each other saw its massive face, and felt the lights within themselves be consumed. They knew it was inevitable. Trespassers must be punished.

_ Punished. As the purple maw craned open with a cold, otherworldly dissonance.  _

_ Punished. As technology lost to time was forced to wake.  _

_ And the hollow of its purple maw spoke, charging a catastrophic Ether beam. _

_ “ _ **_OPHION?!_ ** _ ”  _ The first proper word from Number 9 was spoken. The chilling distress in her voice was impossible to mask.

_ “What?! What the fuck do you mean?!”  _ were the cries of Nia to go unaddressed. 

Number 9 broke from the intimacy of their clashing weapons to create distance and bolt for the captain's deck. _ “ _ **_This is bad!_ ** _ ”  _

The feline scrambled across the warped wood, following behind her upper-rankmen. She wasn’t  _ ideal _ to rely on, but she at least wasn’t charging an indiscriminate  _ death laser _ right now.

Number 9 darted across the deck, eventually reaching the door to the elevator shaft. She slammed hard on the keys, cursing them internally for not going any  _ goddamn  _ faster.

The lift entrance shot open, and Number 9 spastically once-over’ed the deck for her counterpart. After spotting her lagging behind, the woman violently gestured at Nia to  **_hurry_ ** _.  _

Nia increased her sprint speed using water, just  _ barely _ making it to the lift. Number 9 entered first, slamming her fist on the descent button. 

Nia got herself a foot inside of the door. 

And then it fired.

* * *

_ \- Daram Isle, Leftheria - _

  
  


_Nia gasped violently, her body yanking to wakefulness like a lifesaver._ She pulled herself out of a small pool of her own… ‘ _Blood?_ _What happened?’_

She ripped her head upright, pushing herself onto her knees. Shrapnel and blown pieces of the vessel were all around her, as well as seething flames.

She looked into a jagged piece of metal stuck in some sand. Half of her face was drenched in blood. The taste of copper stung every tastebud on her tongue.

Staring at the thing reminded her of the earlier event that transpired, and then  _ immediately _ stabbed her with a splitting headache. The Assassin clutched her the side of her face over her eye, slowly rising to her feet.  _ ‘Thas right. The ship got shot down. Shit. Is she even … ?’ _

There was only one way to find out.

Nia moaned as she trudged through the stained black sand, as noted by the presence of it’s more noticeably natural white in other areas of the lone, expansive archipelago isle. The pain in her hip was agony as she limped across the smokey, hazey field. The trees and foliage burned. The wildlife scattered about in all directions, panicked. Even the more aggressive creatures didn’t bother at all with the maddeningly dissociated feline, clutching internally to each of her five senses like her life was slipping from her. 

Her groans grew raspier, coughs violenter, as she inhaled smog. Her steps taxed her. She couldn’t find any hint of the woman from earlier. No sign of Number 9.

She whipped her head about in all directions.  _ ‘Did she get crushed?’  _

But then her ears jumped, as a graceful hiss slithered the smog and tickled with each strand of fur on the fluff balls inside. 

_ “It’s perfect, isn’t it…? ~”  _

Nia’s body jerked in the appropriate direction, worried she was hallucinating.

But sure enough, there she was. Number 9 was alive. Her token smirk looking even more deranged now that her face was doused with blood from her forehead and covered in black soot. 

_ “Per...fect? Eh?”  _ Nia’s own words clawed themselves up from her torn throat. 

_ “What you see here...is it not just  _ **_exactly_ ** _ what it means to be Assassins, like us?”  _ The woman raised her bloody hand, admiring it under the smog-eclipsed sunlight.  _ “To be killers? The takers of life?” _

_ “The hell are you on about?”  _ Nia coughed. 

_ “Ever since I became an Assassin, I’ve dreamt of this day. The day I could meet with another of my calibur one-on-one in such a sight as this! Though I may not have planned for it.”  _ Number 9 hopped off the jagged rock, sprouting her arms triumphantly.  _ “What’dya say? Isn’t this the kind of dramatic scene we should long for?”  _

_ “Was never big on the show-biz myself, sorry.”  _ Nia heaved herself upright.  _ “In fact, all of this feels… too climactic, somehow.”  _ The feline chuckled softly through another cough. “ _ This is only my third fight. Surely they haven’t run out of ideas for me this early?” _

_ “You know how these things go.”  _ Number 9 rests a hand to her hip.  _ “The writer plans this big project with all of these intricate plot points and gets all obsessed, then forgets about it in a month.”  _ She sighs. _ “It’s quite sad. But  _ **_you_ ** _ should be happy.”  _

_ “Happy?’ About that? Have you gone mad?”  _ Nia drearily dots eyes about the area once again, taking in the almost apocalyptic looking wreckage and smells. 

_ “I mean, who cares if this gets finished, right?”  _ Number 9 summons her large sword from earlier.  _ “Look at how much we packed into one chapter. It’s fitting that this could be the end of all of it.” _

Nia dismisses her superior.  _ “Since ye seem to think we’ve been through  _ **_oh so much_ ** _ together, then before I kill your arse -- can I get a name?” _

_ “Oh?~”  _ She presses a finger to her lips.  _ “My name? ~ Do I even have a name? ~”  _

_ “I’m sure if ya thought long and hard about it…” _

  
  


The woman in the stained white coat raised her sword, using her opposite hand to pull the butt of the hilt. The hilt extended to nearly three times its length, transforming the scimitar into a naginata. The woman spun the spear around her body in violent circles before recapturing and slamming its edge into the sand, scoffing smugly. 

_ “I’ll give ya a name alright.”  _

Rank # 10 - Nia.

Vs

Rank # 9 -  _ “Pa. Tro. Ka. Get all that?”  _

  
  


It’s kill or be killed. 

  
  


Nia burst forward first, speeding through the thick sand and ignoring the pain in her hips. Patroka didn’t move, instead choosing to light aflame her earthly aura and skewer the cyan Cobra Bardiche into the ground with a deadly ecstasy and appetite.

**_“Great Garland!_ ** ” was the roar of Number 9, that sent a series of massive shockwaves barreling through the shrapnel laced sand, flinging metal off in needles and dust up in plumes. 

**_“Deadly Twister!”_ ** was the cry of Number 10, coating her sword in Ether and launching herself upward with a spin slash. Haloes of water encircled her small body, swirling at mach speed and casting aside the obstructions kicked up by the shockwave.

Patroka yanked the sawtooth lance out of the dirt as the feline rode the tornado and dived right on top of her, playing for keeps with her scimitar. Number 9 pounced out of the way, rolling onto her knees as Nia crashed. From within a dust plume hazing out her form, Number 10 blew into Patroka’s proximity, forcing her to guard before being able to properly stand. 

Nia unleashed Jaguar Slash, tossing four heavy strikes surging to the tip with water. Patroka struggled to her feet blocking the bloodthirsty slashes. Nia went for the head, knocking her back a short distance, and then the waist. She skewered her blade straight, lunging for Patroka’s stomach and driving into the pole of her naginata. The twisting torrent of aquatic Ether put the upper-rank’s balance and breathing to the test as she had to desperately try to shove off the spiraling drill of water coating the scimitar. 

It was too much to bear without proper footing. Patroka’s guard was broken. In a last ditch escape, she hopped backward, trying to force a gap open. Nia’s fourth and final swipe was tracked across Patroka’s entire front section, and marked with a sharp gust of water. The evasive leap was enough to escape her the violent edge of Nia’s extended self, but she couldn’t avoid the blast of water. A body-length gash was torn into Patroka’s front side, ripping up her clothes and soaking the tatters in blood.

Clutching her arm, she took her lance up. Next, she bit down on some thick coat cloth around her arm and shredded it with her teeth, squeezing it in her mouth to ignore the pain. 

A few waves of water fly through the air, seeking her. Number 9 slashed away a couple while jogging around the others. Securing a spot to plant her feet, she slammed her lance into the ground again, sending another hoard of shockwaves. Nia dashed up an elevated rock structure, slicing apart the stone pillar it was connected to and leaping across from her to another pillar in order to do the same. 

The two enormous pillars’ collision with the ground summoned a cascade of falling boulders and trees, expunging up deadly shrapnel and dust all over the place.

Patroka spun her naginata above her head, releasing an energetic slash that destroyed some parts headed for her. She vaulted onto the body of some trees ready to fall and then leapt off of those to get away from the chaos and flames. She soared through the air, going head first for her adversary. Nia left the ledge and went back to the ground. Patroka followed.

The teeth of Patroka’s spear caught Number 10 mid stab, jamming her sword into the sand. She dug her weapon up out of the ground, releasing the smothered scimitar and also kicking up Nia into a midair tumble. There was another opportunity to kill. One she wouldn’t waste.

Bloodlusting, she collapsed her spear back into a sword.  _ “ _ **_Illusionary Bloom!_ ** ” she called to the heavens above, coating her weapon in earthly power and attempting to hack the young Assassin to bits. 

From the dizzying spiral, Nia reached into the deepest parts of her, calling on the aquatic power locked all the way inside of her killing soul. A rush of water arced around her spin, clashing with Patroka’s weapon and buying her the very precious second she needed to land on her hand and spring herself back upwards. 

Number 9 wouldn’t give up the chase, re-extending her spear and running Nia around with slashes, before taking into the air to try for her from the sky. Patroka peeled her arm back, raising the tip of the spear to just beside her face, before letting it carreen toward the grounded feline in a sound-breaking burst. It plummeted in a spiral like a torpedo, with enough destructive force charged into it to shatter the land that was their arena. 

As the weapon’s descent neared absolution, the young Assassin was already off the ground in a heartbeat, putting an almost suicidally unorthodox plan into action. Her heel reached the butt of the flying spear. She kicked it into the ground, letting the tectonic explosion send her hurtling through the airspace and gunning straight for her superior,  _ fresh out of options. _

With water seething all around her, she drew her scimitar, eyeing down the step closer to the top like it was all she’d ever lived for. 

Patroka’s gaze was neutral. She knew it was over.

Nia twisted her body in the air, clawing through the sky.

The two soaring bodies met, with only one to claim the right to plant her feet once again.

Number 10 hit the ground, giving into her knees and holding her sword proudly. The small shower of blood came next, drenching her silky grey locs. Patroka’s top and bottom halves fell straight into the crater left behind by her spear. That was that.

The Assassin rose to her feet, looking outwards at Leftheria’s skyline.  _ “Patroka, huh…”  _ unable to lie to herself, she felt a sort of respect for her former superior.  _ They  _ **_had_ ** _ been through a lot together. _

But there was still much more to go. Much more blood Nia had to spill to reach the top.  _ Alone. _

  
  


... _ Well _ …

  
  
_ “Con ~ Gra ~ tulationssssssssssss!! ~”  _

Maybe not completely alone.

_ “H-Huh?!”  _ Nia’s head darted toward the cheerful voice.  _ “Oh. Just you…” _

Kora looked around at the landscape, admittedly with a smile. Calm smolders that once were blazing walls of fire. Toppled trees and stone. It was a mess.  _ “This is awkward.”  _

__   
__   
No response. Nia returned to looking at the Archipelago’s stretch of infinite islands. 

The sexy thunder Blade tilted her head, skipping over to her associate. 

_ “Missing somebody?”  _

_ “Fuck off…”  _ She licked her finger discreetly, tasting the dripping blood.  _ “Hey. Did I go up?” _

_ “Well yea, of course, babe. Get your butt over here and see.”  _

**_\---_ **

__

**_1 - *****_ **

**_2 - *****_ **

**_3 -*****_ **

**_4 - *****_ **

**_5 - *****_ **

**_6 - *****_ **

**_7 - *****_ **

**_8 - *****_ **

**_9 - Nia_ **

**_10 - SLOT VACANT_ **

**_11 - SLOT VACANT_ **

**_12 - SLOT VACANT_ **

__ **_\---_ **


End file.
